If blogging was easy, anyone could do it. Oh, wait…

Archive for the category “Friends & Family”

So, yeah, Mother’s Day is just around the corner, except that, Mother is actually 5,286.4 miles away in Las Fuckin’ Vegas baby, and yet I still feel honor bound to be all nicety-nice and send her the requisite cards despite it all. Mostly from the two kids, cuz we made it very clear that through this all she was still their Mom, and that would never change, yada yada yada, and so I had them sign a couple of mushy-gooshy cards. Yes, I even sent one myself. I guess I’m constitutionally incapable of being that much of an asshole. Although you might want to get a second opinion on that from, you know, her.

Imagine the challenge of finding a card of appropriate vagueness and neutrality such that I could wish her a happy Mom’s Day while avoiding the requisite fawning adoration Hallmark and their ilk seem to think is somehow appropriate for this day. Sheesh. Lemmings.

And I DID find one, lo and behold. Probably one designed for the reluctantly-tolerated mother-in-law type, or the mom who leaves her teenage kids and her husband to pursue some whimsical vision quest while telling said husband, “I love you, I’m just not IN love with you.” Or words to that effect. I probably translated it more closely to, “Fuck you, I’m outta here. Loser.” But, I might have just had a bad, pirated copy of Rosetta Stone or something.

But I’m not bitter. No, really, it says right here. See? “Not. Bitter.”

So for all you mothers out there, I hope you get delightful, mushy-gooshy cards from all your friends and family. And for all you crazy meddling mothers-in-law or wives who hary off on a wild mid-life crisis in Las Vegas, I hope whatever card you get is written on the back of Kraft Macaroni & Cheese box, addressed in hastily scrawled pencil to,”Occupant.”

Yes, we all have them. Well, no, okay, not ALL of us, because, like, 10% unemployment, but……….anyway.

After far too many years squandered in various office jobs in various environments, I’ve come to discover that most office denizens can be classed into a few basic categories. True, I may just have a karmatically unique ability to land amongst wierdos and social outcasts, but overall my observations have supported the theory that these creatures are commonly found in most office environments. To wit:

1) The Stealth Nose Picker. Also known as the, “I’ve managed to convince myself that no one can see me picking my nose as I duck down behind my computer monitor” guy. Yes, dude, we see you as you tenaciously work that pinky finger in to well past the second knuckle questing for that elusive gold. And, we’re all pretty sure that you’re the one who flicks them all over the back side of the bathroom stall door, too.

2) Mr. “I’m Too Damn Busy/Important to Make Another Pot” Guy. Yes, you know and love this person. And by “love” I mean want to stake them out on a fire ant mound covered in nothing but a Honey WheatBerry Jamba Juice smoothie. You know, the person who drinks five or six cups of coffee a day, but will empty the last drop from the caraf with a bitter sigh of frustrated regret and betrayal that “someone” couldn’t keep the damn thing full for him, and so he has to settle for half a cup. And, who then jams the pot back in the brewer and walks off, wearily shaking his head, leaving it stone cold empty despite all the colorful signs quoting Terry Tate saying, “IF YOU KILL THE JOE, YOU MAKE SOME MO!” If you try and corner them about why, just WHY they didn’t make another pot, the answer will invariably be some variant of, “I was in a hurry and didn’t have time“. Yeah, that’s right, because those YouTube videos aren’t going to watch themselves now are they?

3) The “I Didn’t Drink The Last Of It” Guy. A close relative of Number 2, this is the person who, regardless of how much coffee is (or isn’t) left in the pot, will always leave just a liiiiittle bit left in the bottom, even if it’s a whole whopping tablespoon or two. This helps assuage any potential guilt by ensuring the ability to — with utter integrity and deniability — claim that they DIDN’T, in fact, drink the last of the coffee, because technically there are a good 14 or 15 molecules of it still left in there. So, nooo, I DON’T have to make another pot (see #2) and get off me.

4) Speaker Phone Guy. Ah yes, my personal favorite. Usually a manager or sales rep. Invariably results from an excessively over-optimistic self-evaluation of the “hip-ness” of the individual . For some reason, these offenders seem to be overwhelmingly male; mostly faux Alpha Males who want everyone to know just how central they are to everything going on by sharing all the intimate details of their phone conversations with everyone around them. Conversations beginning with some variant of, “Hey Buddy! How they hangin!” followed closely by a hilarious personal anecdote involving “those chicks at that bar last night.” And for some reason, despite all the advances in modern technology, micro-circuity and audio enhancement widgets that can pick up a fly farting half a mile away, SPG feels it necessary to talk loud enough for the guy in the corporate office in LA to hear him from Memphis…WITHOUT the phone. Because using a handset it just so…so…”the little people.”

I’m sure there are many more, like “Always Leaves His Print Job On The Printer For Several Hours” Guy, and “Farts and Hope No One Notices Even Though OH MY GAAWD!” Guy. But that, dear readers, is for another day.

I just figured it out. How Facebook is Teh Death of Real Relationships.

Along with my aforementioned Attention Deficit problem, or maybe inextricably tied INTO this problem, is my just generally crappy record of maintaining any kind of decent friendships over an extended period of time. Part of the problem is that I tend to move around a lot, and so, lacking physical proximity to people who were once good friends, they tend to drift out of consciousness for me. More importantly, I just flat lose track of how long it’s been since I’ve called/emailed/written/spoken with them.

And Facebook, rather than making things better, makes them all kinds of worse. At least for me.

See, the problem for me is, I’ll troll through Facebook, read the posts, see the pictures, maybe make a quick one or two sentence comment on someone’s “Wall,” and then I roll on to the next post, the next Demotivation poster..and oh, is that my phone?

And in my head, I think that I’ve “connected” with Jim or Tara or Milosh or whoever. Until it strikes me one day that their kid who I remember being a spastic little 10-year-old has just graduated college and is engaged, with photos of the rehearsal dinner plastered all over Facebook.

Wait…the hell…wha?

So, I sit down, and realize that the last time I actually spoke with this person, on the phone, maybe on Skype, was four years, at least one job, and probably several significant family milestones ago.

Facebook makes us think we are connected, when in reality, it’s less than skin deep. And, in my moment of epiphany, I realize that I have no real idea what is going on in my so-called “friends” lives. Other than the quick snippets I get via Facebook.

The problem is, people don’t usually post the gut-wrenching struggles they are fighting through on Facebook for all the world to see. We get the fun vacation pictures, the cool sunset, pictures of the new deck or new motorcyle. We get a false impression of how great everything is going, when if we were in fact reallyfriends, and not just Facebook friends, maybe I’d know about the financial struggles, the job strife, the neighbor from hell or who knows what else.

But I don’t call. I don’t ask. I don’t worry. Because it looks like everything is just groovy…on Facebook. It gives me a false sense of connection that tricks my brain into thinking that I’m still “in touch” with these people, when in fact the simple reality of it all is that I’m a relationship voyeur. I just watch, from the outside, as if through a window only really seeing what passes into my field of view.

I don’t come inside, sit on the couch, and share a beer while my friend/brother/cousin spills their guts and shares an actually personal experience. Develops a real bond.

For far too many of my former friends, our friendship is only Facebook-deep. I’ve come to realize that if Facebook is all you got, you haven’t got much at all…

…and that maybe, just maybe, the problem isn’t really with Facebook at all.